Out Of The Ice
by A Tale Of Brothers
Summary: Because, really, everyone deserves a happy ending. Not so much a sequel as an alternative outcome to Nightfoot's "Under The Ice".
Yuri woke up to the clatter of a patient dropping his tray of food next door. He knew because of the loud swearing and hurried steps of a nurse ready to assist the old, grumpy man he shared a wall with. Several times he'd surged in and out of consciousness in fits and starts, awakening to the same white walls and curtains. Every time he opened his eyes again they lay on a digital clock near his bed, its bright digits the only color that wasn't sterile in the room. With each new dreadful waking Yuri burned the red blinking date and hour into his mind, as if punishing himself for not being capable of turning back time – of fixing his mistake.

It hadn't even been a day yet.

Memories of the last couple hours blurred together and stung his eyes with tears he had no energy left to shed. What for? Flynn was dead. There was no changing that, no matter how hard he'd cry or beg for a second chance. Every time he woke up his eyes would drift to the window, to the darkening sky and the innocent white of falling snow he'd come to loathe in a matter of hours.

Flynn's face had been white, so white and cold when they had kissed for the last time. White like the anger and the crack in his voice when he'd realized his future had drowned in the lake together with his frozen body. The more Yuri remembered, the heavier his heart grew with guilt and agony at the unbearable thought that he was to blame. If he'd just _listened_ to Flynn for once-

Feeling a painful knot tightening in his chest, one that hadn't left since he'd been admitted here, Yuri forced his gaze away. Wind shook and rattled the blinds outside, the eerie sound of another snowstorm breaking the silence of late afternoon. Occasionally a nurse would come in to take his temperature and make light conversation Yuri didn't care to listen to, faking sleep instead to escape her questions. _Useless_. Everything was useless in a world he'd let Flynn suffer alone, left his body behind and never told him how much he cared for his dumb, stupid ass until it was already too late.

Dull, silent hours dragged on, endless. With nothing else to focus on, his eyes would always wander around the room to find the window again. People might say wounds faded with time, but the vivid memory of biting cold freezing his very bones barely a day ago certainly did not seem like one he'd ever escape from. Shivers ran down his skin despite the layers of blankets wrapped around him, cold and numb as his mind drove him back under a shelter of snow.

Like a magnet it would keep him trapped, force him to witness again in his memories a sight he wished more than anything to forget. Flynn's face drifted underwater, mouth agape as if desperately asking for air. Yuri hated how the blue of his eyes, usually so clear and bright, now matched the dim darkness at the bottom of the lake. A sightless stare that followed him everywhere he looked, even to the greatest depths of sleep.

When the edges of his world brightened again and his eyes fluttered open, Yuri briefly found himself wondering if it had all been a nightmare, yet just as the last four times one quick glance to his side proved him wrong again. Never before had Yuri resented a nurse this much.

Through the haze of exhaustion and anger that one wouldn't let him sleep and forget humans had emotions, he made out a clutter of words: "time", "temperature","haven't we?" and "visitor". Hang on – visitor? As far as he remembered he'd been in no shape to give an emergency contact when he'd been admitted to the hospital, injured and close the deadly stages of hypothermia. Then who…? Yuri sighed. In all honesty, he couldn't bring himself to care. Flynn was dead, it was his fault and he wanted to tear something apart the same way his heart had been.

With a headache hovering in the back of his mind he gave the nurse a grunted response and watched her leave, glaring at her back when she left the door open. There was no time to call after her however, because the next person stepped into the room and his breath caught in his throat.

Yuri had never been under strong medical drugs, but as far as he knew they weren't supposed to give you hallucinations. And that's what it was, right? There was no way else Flynn would be standing in front of him, safe and sound, if he wasn't under the influence of his medication. It was cruel, really. What was wrong with him that his mind would keep torturing him like this? Desperate frustration boiled inside of him as he balled a fist. Wasn't he suffering enough?!

The hallucination stood still in the doorway, looking at him with caution. Yuri stared when he walked closer, very slowly, as if approaching a frightened child. It was as if the air had frozen again, cold and so very fragile. Yuri almost laughed at the bitter irony. Imaginary Flynn reached the side of his bed, looking him up and down with worry. Of course he was worried. Flynn was always worried about him – it's what had cost him his life and saved Yuri's own.

Flynn sighed quietly, relief written all over his face. What he did next froze Yuri even more so than the snow had. Hallucinations moved, talked…but did they sit down and leave a mark on the bed? Did the sheets cave under their weight and crease the fabric? Did their hands feel warm and soft to the touch?

Did they look so painfully real?

 _This is messed up_. Yuri knew he couldn't be awake. He was delirious and probably throwing a fit or something back in the real world. As much as he wanted to believe Flynn was alive and well, more than anything else in the world, there was a painful tug in his chest every time he looked into his eyes that reminded him this couldn't be possibly happening.

"Yuri, are you alright?" Imaginary Flynn frowned. "Can you hear me?"

There it was again, that insufferable worry. It would have angered Yuri further if it wasn't for the faintest, dangerous trail of hope the sound of Flynn's voice sparked within him. He wanted to laugh at himself for being delusional, foolishly so, but couldn't move a finger as he kept staring. The drumming of his heart lasted a dozen beats of complete stillness until Flynn finally moved, leaning in slowly without ever looking anywhere but him.

Yuri's mind came to a sudden halt, as did the world all around him. Flynn's kiss was chapped and feather-light, but it felt _real_. Which it shouldn't— _couldn't_ _—_ be. It was just not an option. Like a mantra he repeated himself that it was a dream, just your imagination, nothing more, _snap out of it already_!

Except this time, Flynn's lips were warm. Nothing like the frozen, phantom semblance of warmth he'd left behind in the woods. This was a kiss he'd bid farewell to, a kiss he thought he'd lost. It was soft, so soft, and it was driving him insane.

Flynn gently leaned his forehead against Yuri's with pleading eyes. "Please, talk to me."

Perhaps it was the quiver in his voice, or the shaking of his hand, or perhaps even the broken look on his face. Whatever it was, something shattered inside Yuri, a breach in the wall that had built against his will.

"F-Flynn…?" he heard himself whisper. It was no more than a quick breath, raw and painful in his throat, but enough to tear down what little self-control he'd gathered while bedridden. Like a plunge in arctic waters, Yuri was thrown in a whirl of doubts and disbelief. His breathing became fast and erratic, his head spun and he felt sick, but now that this reality was starting to sink in, he held Flynn's hand with a death grip.

"Yes. It's me, I'm here." Flynn wrapped his free arm around Yuri's shoulder to pull him in a tight embrace. "You're safe. We made it. It's going to be alright."

Despite the soothing words, Yuri felt completely lost. How could it be? How was Flynn alive when he'd seen his dead body drifting under the ice, when he'd felt his spirit just vanish into thin air? Was he losing his mind? Flynn started to pull away, but Yuri wasn't ready to let go of him yet.

" _No_ ", his throat was sore from being cold and mute all day, so what was meant a shout came out rather as a quiet, pathetic whimper. Yuri ignored the pain and clutched Flynn's shirt with trembling fingers. "I- I don't understand. You were…you were-"

Flynn tensed. "Yuri? What's wrong? Are you hurting anywhere?"

"No, _no_! Yes, I- I don't know…" Yuri panted, his thoughts racing to find a way out as he took a shaking breath. "I just- why…why are you here?! You were dead, Flynn! _Dead_!" Sobs jolted his back and tears broke free at last, as if a wicked spell had been lifted. "I saw you, Flynn! I- I saw your body- your fucking _c-_ _c_ _orpse_ under that ice!"

"What are you talking about?" Flynn asked warily, holding him tight. "I'm not dead, and neither are you. We're okay."

"We're _not_ okay! I saw your goddamn ghost!"

"Yuri, please calm down."

"Calm down? You expect me to calm down?!" he cried, furious that logic wouldn't agree with his memory. "I have no clue what the fuck is going on, Flynn! You died before my eyes. There was so much snow and y-you weren't even reacting to the cold, but you then carried me on your back and you felt so real, so _alive_ even though you weren't and- and I just-" he choked, "I just want to understand."

Silence fell over the room, only broken by the storm howling outside. Yuri felt Flynn's arms tighten around him and his heart beat fast in his chest, an oddly comforting melody. Yuri's thoughts shoved one another, lost and left to wander in sheer darkness as he took deep, shaking breaths. Flynn kept quiet for minutes, maybe hours, holding Yuri until exhaustion caught up to his body and he collapsed against him.

"Flynn."

"Hm?"

"Tell me what happened." he whispered weakly, as if scared of knowing the truth. As if terrified it was an illusion after all and he was about to wake up to a cold, empty room.

Flynn said nothing and then heaved a deep, tired sigh. "Do you remember falling from your snowmobile?"

Yuri gave a small nod.

"It all happened so quickly. Your leg was trapped underneath and you hit your head on the ice. There was so much blood. It's a miracle I managed to drag us both to the lakeshore without breaking the ice, but thankfully I remembered those Boys Scouts' survival guidelines you never bothered to learn." he chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. Yuri had always hated the Boys Scouts and left as soon as he'd had the chance – who could've known it'd save both their lives one day.

"You know, I thought we wouldn't make it." Flynn's voice sounded distant, as though he was reliving the past. A past Yuri didn't remember, but one he readily welcomed over the distorted memories in his mind that seemed so alike. "Your were unconscious, wounded in the leg and the head, and our makeshift shelter hardly protected us. It was so cold. You caught a fever from your leg injury and there was nothing I could do."

"That night seemed to never end, Yuri." he spoke quietly, struggling to find his words. "I- I couldn't allow myself to fall asleep and you were delirious. Luckily, I'd managed to grab my phone, so when the storm finally died down I carried you until I could find a signal and call 911. They arrived nearly half an hour later with a helicopter and brought us here."

Yuri remained silent as he tried to process Flynn's side of the story. It made sense. Hard to believe and almost too good to be true, but it made sense. "So…" he started carefully, "you're not dead?"

"No, I'm not. They brought me to the infirmary while you were being transferred to the emergency room. Your leg will heal in a week, but you hit your head pretty hard. A concussion, most likely."

He pulled away to look in Yuri's eyes with all the honesty he could muster. "It was nothing but a fever dream. You and I are very much alive and safe. We'll be alright."

And somehow, finally, Yuri was beginning to trust these words. Flynn's blue eyes, though quite weary, were their usual depth and shine. The weak smile he offered did not compare to the unfathomable fondness and relief he felt in his heart, but it was a smile nonetheless, one Flynn mirrored as he leaned in for another kiss. Delicate and tender, it spelled every unspoken word, comforted Yuri in ways nothing else would. He claimed one after the other, an insatiable thirst for lips he'd thought gone for good.

"Remind me never to listen to you again." Flynn chuckled between kisses.

Any other day Yuri would have merely rolled his eyes or pinched him in the side, but not tonight. He'd been given a second chance, and he wasn't about to waste it.

"I'll give you that one." he laughed. Suddenly, three words he'd never managed to tell him straight to his face seemed so easy, so obvious on his lips. Lifting both hands to cup Flynn's face, he brought their foreheads together again and whispered, "I love you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to my life."

Flynn stared, at a loss, then wrapped his arms around him again in a tight hug, so tight Yuri wondered if he was aware functioning lungs were required for breathing.

"I love you, too." he murmured, "And don't you do this again, moron, or I'll kill you myself."

Yuri smiled. "Got it."


End file.
